


Love You To Death

by ziegler



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Exes, F/F, Lesbian, Moicy, Moircy, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 08:52:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17443745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziegler/pseuds/ziegler
Summary: When the mind won't let go of the past, how can the heart be expected to follow?





	Love You To Death

**Author's Note:**

> i miss these two extremely hot women being in my life more :sob: 
> 
> i love moicy angst the very most, so i hope you enjoy!

Life can change in the blink of an eye. A life lost, a precious item dropped; even something as simple as a candle flickering out could all happen with the blink of an eye. Within a _year_ , a lot can happen. Within something as long as _ten_ years, can you really even say that the person you once were still exists?

For Moira O’Deorain and Angela Ziegler, neither of them could.

The people they were a few years ago no longer existed. The characteristics that had made them who they were; the ambitious, daring, experimental doctor, and her sharp, talented, good-hearted co-worker; most of those were either gone or warped in some way. The things that had once made up their souls was no longer in existence; and the sensation of love that they once felt for one another had morphed, disfigured itself into something translucent, cold, and completely shrouded in an unacknowledged darkness.

Ten years. A lot could happen in ten years.

But whilst a lot of things could change, the same sentences haunt both the women just as bitterly as they did minutes after they were said.

_How could you betray us like that, Moira? Betray me? How could you?_

_Angela, don’t think about it like that! Come with me! The technology they have here, we –_

_No! Don’t you know what you’re getting yourself into?! I won’t do it!_

It was far worse to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, to the both of them. It all felt so haunting.

Sometimes, in the early mornings, Angela allows herself to have a cigarette. She doesn’t do it too often – only on mornings where she can’t get back to sleep – and shuffles herself aimlessly towards the window she cracks open often. She leans against the window frame, inhaling a puff of unfamiliar smoke; and as soon as she finds herself exhaling it, she feels the much needed tingle of relaxation massaging her scalp.

On mornings where she can’t sleep, health doesn’t matter. _I could die today,_ she thinks to herself in a strangely comforting manner, _so I might as well wake up properly._

The thoughts that keep Angela awake are always the same. The thoughts of those she loves and cares for dying; the thoughts of things long since passed reoccurring in her head, over and over and _over_ again. The thought of how being a doctor was never supposed to be this melancholy always pushes its way to the forefront of her mind. The second thought is always that she lost the person she loved to a force greater than death – to the side of evil. To have Moira alive and well and indulging in a company that loved to experiment so cruelly on others was almost worse than knowing she was in the ground.

Angela rubs her temples as she finishes her cigarette on this particular morning. She knows why she can’t sleep this time. They were going to fight patches of Talon today, here in Lijiang; little soldiers with no talent dotted around the map, and of course the heavy hitters were what was going to be the problem. But there always came a sense of shame, for Angela, knowing that the higher-ups like Ana and Jack knew of her love affair with Moira, and how she was so often present at these events. Ana never said anything. Jack Morrison just didn’t really say much full stop. But something about it all made her feel ashamed.

Angela is making coffee when she remembers the first time they met for the eight-hundredth time this week.

_Hello, Miss Ziegler. It’s a pleasure to have a woman like you under my care out in the field._

_Aren’t you too charming for your own good? Your silver tongue will get you in trouble._

_Oh, I certainly hope so. Care to join me for a drink tonight?_

Angela smirks in the present day, but doesn’t mean to. Moira had always been so forwards back then.

_I’m not a big drinker, and we have work tomorrow. What about a coffee or something?_

Moira had chuckled. Angela closes her eyes to repress the memory of her smile a little more.

_Anything to make you feel comfortable, love._

Angela scoffs, and throws the spoon she was using to gently stir the coffee into the sink with an aggressive edge.

For Angela Ziegler, she had no idea whether Moira was having these thoughts and feelings linger so late on into the years. They were both so much older now, so much more experienced; god only knew what kind of atrocities Moira had committed in the name of science, and Angela was certain that Moira thought Angela’s own line of work to be positively pedestrian with its approach to life. Uninspired and prosaic; that was what Angela had chosen over the life of morally ambiguous healing and experimentation.

Angela remembered the ways her face had felt, shifting into a horrified expression at seeing Moira’s modified arm, on a reconnaissance mission in Nepal’s temple.

“Impressed, Angela?” Moira boasted as soldiers fought around them, flexing her fingers; and presenting quickly a purple-looking sphere from something she had physically engrained into the centre of her palm. “Grisly as the experimenting was, well…I now have limitless power. You could still have this too, you know. It’s not too late. With Talon, at least.”

“You are as foolish as you are intelligent. And you talk so strongly of all these things you do have, Moira, but you have no heart,” Angela quickly retorted, scowling, “and no amount of scientific meddling can change a conscience.”

Moira blinked in surprise, before she laughed incredulously.  

“No _heart_?” she replied, before the smile faded from her face. “I should think you, who turned down the offer of being with the woman that loved you so in a comfortable lap of luxury would know all _about_ having no heart. And if I don’t have a heart, Angela…”

There was a pause, before Moira swept away the purple orb with a grasp of her fingers.

“If I don’t have a heart,” She repeated, this time with an unsteady tone of voice, “it is because you broke it.”

Angela feels her eyes closing again with the sensation of the pain.

_Why did I have to fall in love with her?_

As she readies herself for the day ahead, she doesn’t know that the string of fate tugs once more; as Moira O’Deorain had been having those same thoughts on this particular morning.

For Moira, it was _every_ morning, without fail. The nightmarish sensation of loss. The weight of regret. It all felt like she had scales either side of her arm, and her body was used as the precarious pillar that held them up. Did she make the right choice? Of course she did, of that she was certain. It was Angela who had made the wrong one. It was a pitiful state to get in – to look forward to these missions where they could both potentially lose their life, just to see her again. Missions could take weeks, months, until they were announced. Moira always longed for those opportunities to come up. To see her face again. To know she wasn’t dead.

But Moira O’Deorain wasn’t to be mistaken. Regret? Loss? Certainly, she felt that way when it came to the woman she had loved so much; but when it came to the fates of her experiments, things like that didn’t bother her. Those people that had died or sacrificed their humanity mattered not. It was for scientific discovery. It was for a dubiously acquired unique sense of glory and purpose. For Moira, that was all she could have ever wanted in her life.

Well, it was to begin with. She wasn’t expecting the arrival of Angela Ziegler on her doorstep over at Blackwatch, all those years ago. The two of them had shared a keen medical prowess that went unrivalled in their thirst for knowledge. But soon, that began to take a back seat to a feeling that was taking over their minds much more than science.

Moira grits her teeth as she gets ready.

“It didn’t have to be this way…” she grumbles to herself. Her thoughts hang over her head like a ghoul.

The ways Angela used to look at her. That was always her favourite thing. The shimmering light in her eyes, even in the dimmest of rooms; the warm effervescence of her smile. The ways that Angela would hold her hand beneath the table at meetings, and the ways that they would be able to lay in bed in the mornings, kissing until hitting the snooze button on the alarm clock wasn’t able to be done any more. Angela Ziegler had presented Moira with a new outlook on life back then, and perhaps the greatest power of all was to have it snatched away again.

Moira knew that it was growing to be too late to ignore the thoughts. They would swell up in her mind, like a pungent bubble, thinking about their kisses and their touches, the ways that Moira even thought, at one point, how Angela might be the woman she wanted to marry; and now they are apart, that thought haunts her more than ever.

As she gets ready that morning, she thinks about Angela and the looming mission. She thinks about the scowl that always comes across the woman she once loved, and she thinks about her situation for a little while. The mission objective, what is expected of her. Then she thinks of Angela again.

The buzzer begins to sound to signify the mission beginning. She knows that Overwatch will be ready there; with their hopelessly good intentions and misguided principles. She knows that Talon is the right side to be on, at least in her eyes, and no amount of pining can change that.

And so; in different corners of the world; two women with their souls still very much intertwined with each other begin to get ready.

They think of each other all the time, sometimes fondly and mostly not, but always wistful…and neither women know the scientific cure for a broken heart held together with red tape.

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed this, then i'm happy to say i just finished writing my first game as part of Noodletub Games - and it's out on Steam right now! it's called The Ghost of You. if you want to sink your teeth into a suspense-horror-love story about an entirely lesbian cast, then please check it out [here](https://noodletub.tumblr.com/post/181306988281/the-ghost-of-you-out-now-on-steam)! thank you so much! ♥


End file.
